


The Cartmanchurian Candidate

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Category: South Park
Genre: Elections, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: The world seems to be falling apart and the kids at their school are just getting meaner, or so it seems to Kyle. The Student Body elections may be a force for change, but Cartman's campaign seems content with the status quo - i.e. annoying the hell out of Kyle.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 89





	The Cartmanchurian Candidate

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Secret Santa gift for the lovely Eva! We've only spoken a handful of times, but you're such a sweet, cool person and I hope this fic is everything you wanted in your Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy, Eva, and that you have the happiest of holidays!

Seeing kids get picked on was nothing new for Kyle. Hell, it was very likely that it wasn't an uncommon experience for kids all over the world, didn't make it any easier to watch though. Especially when this quiet, defenceless kid was being tormented by no other than Clyde Donovan and Butters Stotch. Kyle always thought that these were the kids who would only fall in unpleasant line when a far more commanding, and intimidating figure was at the helm. Never did he think these were kids who would pick on someone completely innocent and random. Maybe it was to be expected, Kyle thought. The world only seemed to be getting warmer, and nastier, and more fucked up, and the only rule the people in charge seemed to be content to follow was that of _of_ fence being the best _de_ fence. It was only natural that the literal and metaphorical climate influence the microcosm of their high school. But why should they would stand for this? Why did this new normal have to be so blindly accepted? They were supposed to be the generation who knew better, and Kyle felt he was growing up angrier than he could bear at the injustice occurring daily.

His fingers curled, digging into his palms as he considered walking over to the desk and breaking the little mob up, but was distracted by a hand waving in front of his face.

"Kyle?"

"Huh?" Kyle blinked, noticing Stan staring warily at him.

"I was just asking if you were still okay to come over and help me with my math homework?"

"Oh..." Kyle nodded. "Oh yeah, sure..."

Stan's brow furrowed, and he frowned.

"You okay, dude? You seem a little distracted."

"Mind fog," Cartman suddenly announced, like an actor who had been waiting in the wings and was finally making his grand entrance, delivering his opening line. He leaned in close and said to Stan with complete seriousness. "Classic symptom of menopause..."

"Fuck off! I am not..." Kyle gave up, grumbling and shaking his head. He had to avoid Cartman's gaze and take a quiet breath to simmer down. Cartman's goading and unwarranted views were like rocket fuel to Kyle's infamously short fuse.

Stan sighed.

"Cartman, quit being an asshole." He leaned forward, brows still knitted and frown still etched on his face. "Seriously, what's up, dude?"

Kyle huffed, arms folded. He could feel the words gathering in his chest.

"It's just... don't things just feel _worse_ around here lately? It's like the world's gone to shit and we're all walking around with this existential dread, and instead of talking about it we're all just turning on each other. We're surrounded by assholes and, it's like, well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em but... there's got to be something better, has there?"

"I don't know..." Stan replied. He seemed to be thinking hard about Kyle's words. Maybe he hadn't noticed before? He sat back in his seat, looking slightly worried. "I hope so..."

"There's gotta be something we can do. In our own school at least..."

Cartman rolled his eyes and arched a sceptical, arrogant eyebrow.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"Figures," Kyle replied, more bitter than he intended. "Being an antagonistic, obnoxious asshole is pretty much your default setting. No wonder we're all becoming so close-minded when your big mouth is-"

"Uh-oh!" He cut in, cupping his mouth. Nobody seemed interested in his announcement but it succeeded in making Kyle seethe. "Kyle's on his soapbox again! The self-righteous apple really doesn't fall far from the busybody tree, huh?"

"You're such a-"

"Alright, I want everyone in seats," Miss Campbell announced as she strode to her desk, balancing a white box on her hip.

She was a tall woman, with frizzy, brown hair that was greying at the roots. She looked permanently uninterested, and the photo of her on the faculty board suggested that of a much younger, more enthusiastic lady wearing ancient shoulder-pads. No wonder she was bored of teaching now.

There was some murmuring as those still milling about made their way to their desks, and the sound of the box dropping onto the desk shut everybody up.

"Now, I'm sure none of you need reminding but elections for student body president will be held in three weeks time."

Kyle blinked, spine straightening as he learned forward to listen to the most interesting announcement he had heard in homeroom for months. This could be his chance to make a difference, to heal some wounds, and bring all these frustrated, hurting kids together.

"I have forms for candidate registration on my desk, and anyone who wishes to contribute to bringing real change to this school is welcome to take one on your way out. Don't all rush at once..."

After registration and a few more banal announcements, the bell signalled first period and Kyle leapt out of his seat and rushed to the desk, eyes trained on the stack of forms like a greyhound's would be on a lean, mechanical rabbit. But as he reached for one, he was beaten to it... by Cartman, of all people. Kyle was sat right next to him! He didn't even see him get up!

He plucked a sheet from the top of the pile, and grinned at Kyle with aloof, aggravating aplomb. He sauntered out of the room, and Kyle's immediate instinct was to follow him... but not before grabbing a form of his own first. He scowled as he tucked it inside his backpack.

The hallway was already teeming with traffic, but he weaved through the crowd to find Cartman.

"Hey!"

Cartman didn't turn around, and Kyle growled. He was practically marching when he caught up to him.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, seething and glaring at Cartman. "Why do you wanna run for president?"

"Power, for one thing. Boredom, for another, and 'President Cartman' has a nice ring to it."

Kyle huffed, incredulous.

"But I don't understand... you..." he shook his head. "In fourth grade you called student council retarded!"

Cartman's eyebrows twitched in surprise, but he soon laughed.

"Kyle, if you're in this race too I suggest you tone down the offensive language. That's not gonna play well with your potential hippy voters. You _will_ be cancelled."

Kyle was afraid that if he ground his teeth any harder they would just be dust in his mouth. He smothered a scream.

"Will you stop evading my questions you smug piece of shit!"

Cartman stopped in the middle of the hallway, and even if it meant being hit by bags or shoved out of the way, Kyle came to a stop too, without even thinking about it. Cartman was smiling at him, wide and smug.

"Make a pretty good politician already, huh? Look, Kyle, I'm running for the same reasons you are, to make a difference. Why do you even care if I run or not?" He blinked, and made a satisfied face as if somebody had walked by with something delicious-smelling. "Unless you're afraid I'm gonna beat you..."

Kyle's stomach lurched at the possibility only the darkest, most insecure part of his mind had entertained. It wasn't the first time Cartman made his skin crawl like this, it was the unsettling, icky feeling he always got when Cartman saw right through him.

"I won't let you do that," he vowed.

Cartman grinned, and it only pissed Kyle off more. Of course he wasn't taking this remotely seriously.

"Then the game is on," he replied, proving Kyle's point. "Oh, and here's another tip, if you want this school to be a harmonious place where everybody loves each other and jerks each other off, you might wanna stop yelling at me in the hallway."

* * *

A week before the elections, and Kyle wasn't enjoying campaigning as much as he thought he would. He felt the response he was receiving from his fellow students was lukewarm at best. Not that he was expecting too much passion, or excitement for student body elections, and at this point he was willing to take what he would get. But Cartman, as usual, was ruining everything. He was still incensed that he was even fucking running, and in no doubt at all that this was exactly the reaction Cartman was trying to draw from him. He hated acting so predictably, but it was impossible to let his infuriation simmer, especially when Cartman seemed intent on holding mini rallies in the cafeteria, and when Kyle saw his smug, grinning face plastered to every locker.

Kyle had been handing out his own flyers, and chatting with his classmates. He wanted to run an honest, humble campaign, because he didn't need all the spectacle and bravado Cartman had to be successful. He still believed his convictions would prevail. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't rely on the kindness of his friends every now and then.

"Hey, you think I could come by the gaming club tonight?" Kyle asked Stan as they walked to school. "Talk to some of the members, and see if I can get their support?"

"Sure, but I should tell you..." Stan's voice drifted off as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Wendy already came by last week."

Kyle sighed. How the hell was he on the back-foot already?

"Ugh, really?"

"Well, yeah?" Stan replied, blinking at the defensiveness in his voice as though he hadn't expected to sound that way. "Is that bad?"

"No! No, of course it's not bad. I just..." Kyle rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you give me the heads up?"

"I didn't think that-"

"You could've at least told me in advance!"

"So you could beat her to it? Do you know how pissed everybody would be if I had you both in there talking about student council? The only reason Nichole was cool with it is because Wendy is her friend-"

"Well, you're my friend!" Kyle cut in without thinking about it, voice straining. "Wendy already has guaranteed votes from the girls volleyball team. Grabbing the gaming club's votes too is just greedy! And Cartman..."

"Dude, do you really think Cartman is gonna win?" Stan asked, eyebrow raised. "He can't call in favours from anyone. One of his friends is running against him, and it's not as if me and Kenny are gonna vote for him."

Kyle pursed his lips together as he considered Stan's argument. He wanted to agree, but this was awfully reminiscent of that time Cartman bought an actual fucking theme park and in the middle of a crisis of faith Stan had assured Kyle that Cartman would soon be sick of his purchase. It was only a few days later Kyle had watched Cartman having a whale of a time in a taunting commercial. So, really, what the hell did Stan know?

It turned out - when it came to Cartman at least - nothing, as when they approached the school they heard the distinct din of Cartman's voice, diluted only by the crackle of a cheap megaphone.

" _A vote for Cartman is a vote for tomorrow! A vote for Cartman is a vote for freedom! Freedom from the oppressive, socialist ideals of this stinking administration!_ "

They turned a corner to see Cartman stood on the roof with Butters, both sporting _'Vote Cartman'_ t-shirts, and throwing flyers to a riotous, cheering crowd below. Kyle picked up one of the flyers that had fluttered to the ground, and saw that it had a photo of Cartman sporting a serious, noble expression, framed by the words 'CARTMAN CARES.' Kyle wished he had a megaphone too, to challenge the pandering, totally dishonest slogan.

"Does our student council listen to you?" Cartman asked, _demanded_. "Do our teachers? Does our principal?! Vote for me, and I'll make those fuckers listen!"

The crowd roared, and the noise sent a chill down Kyle's spine like the first rumbling of a storm.

"Holy shit..." Stan whispered.

Kyle took a heavy breath.

"Yeah... I need to make more flyers," he said, before pushing through the crowd to get inside.

* * *

Kyle shuffled his papers with jittery hands, suddenly nervous as students filed into the classroom and took their seats. He looked up from his podium, and was glad to see that Token, and even Wendy, were looking a little sheepish as the audience for their debate grew. Cartman, on the other hand, appeared completely in the zone, ready to give the performance of a lifetime.

It was decided that during the last week of the election, a debate with questions led by the student electorate would take place and every student who had a free period was invited to attend. It was a modest audience, but they seemed to fill the vacant classroom. The thought was even more horrifying when some students appeared to be wearing _'Vote Cartman'_ t-shirts. Kyle tried to smile at everybody who entered, but it was slowly shrinking. He sort of felt like the new kid, sat in a room of strangers and scrambling to make friends. He wondered if Wendy and Token felt the same, they too lacked such enthusiastic supporters.

When all the chairs were taken, Miss Campbell stood in front of the podiums.

"Thank you everyone, for attending this debate between the candidates for student body president. Voting will take place in three days so this is a great opportunity for those of you who are still undecided to ask our candidates questions, and - based on the answers they provide - help you to make an informed decision. We only have this period so, candidates, please keep your answers as brief as you can. May I also remind you to let each other finish. So, would anybody like to start with a question?"

Jimmy immediately raised his hand, sat in the front row with his phone poised to record the ensuing debate.

"Yes?"

"My question is for Kyle. We recently cuh- _cuh-_ conducted a poll in the school _p-p-p-paper_ and you were the least popular candidate running in this election-"

"I was?" Kyle cut in, stung. He flushed at his interruption, looking to Miss Campbell. "Sorry, I-"

She waved him off, her casual nature belying her pity.

"That's alright..."

"What I'm asking is, can you tell my readers why they should vote for you?" Jimmy asked.

Kyle blinked, fingers flexing as they tried to grip the podium in a way that suggested authoritativeness rather than a guy trying to keep it together. He knew he was a good speaker, and framing the question as an opportunity rather than an attack was a salve to his stinging ego. He cleared his throat.

"Well, firstly, I think I should say the reason I was so surprised by the results of your poll is that when I've spoken to people in the halls, in the classroom, in the cafeteria I often see the same frustrations, and hopes coming from the student body that I myself feel," he began. "My whole campaign is centered around the idea that we're in this together. High school is tough, growing up is tough, and growing up today is _really_ tough. But we shouldn't take our frustrations out on each other, and I've seen our fellow students do just that. It may feel good to project all that pain onto somebody smaller than you, somebody you don't know. But it leaves scars, and fear, and it leads to people eating their lunch in the cafeteria, and skipping class to avoid certain groups of people. We've fostered a culture of meanness that has now become a culture of intimidation, and a lot is to blame. The insecurity and uncertainty we feel about our own futures, the proliferation of trolling, the media we consume-"

"Oh God!" Cartman laughed, full of derision. "Please don't tell me you're gonna blame this so called bullying epidemic on farts again, Kyle?"

Kyle took a steadying breath. He was expecting this, of course. But it took everything in him to not respond to Cartman with his usual acerbity.

"No, I'm just saying that we are influenced by-"

"Sorry, but am I the only one who finds it insulting that I'm not expected to answer to my own behaviour?" Cartman asked, addressing the audience. "We're all nearly adults here, aren't we? So why can't we take some personal responsibility, instead of blaming all our problems on the state of the world, or farts, or Canada?"

"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle snapped, he couldn't help it. Cartman was rocket fuel, after all, and he had launched Kyle's temper into the stratosphere. "As if you've ever taken responsibility for anything ever!"

Miss Campbell raised her hands, attempting to moderate this 'debate' that had quickly regressed into every heated conversation Kyle had ever had with Cartman since kindergarten.

"Alright, boys, I think we'd better-"

"Jesus, so hypocritical!" Cartman said, voice dripping with bitter laugher. "'Mr Nice Guy' telling me to shut up? But that's such a typical, liberal response to any expression of doubt. You wanna be generous with everything except your opinion, and you shut down anybody who disagrees with you."

Cartman's statement was met by cheers from some audience members, and a couple of people sporting his stupid t-shirts even wolf-whistled. Kyle was gripping the podium so hard that his knuckles had strained white, as if he had to keep himself grounded to something so he wouldn't fucking take off through the ceiling, or launch himself at the goading, pompous asshole stood across from him. He cried in frustration and turned to the audience.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about! This problem has festered for so long that you're all going wild for this asshole while somebody who actually wants to solve the problem is tanking in the polls! Can't you see you're all being manipulated? Can't we all just stop being so mean to each other!"

Kyle was met with silence, but not one that made his confidence shrivel, or that left his words scored with humiliation. It was still uncomfortable, but Kyle read the flickers of surprise on people's faces, how they turned to their friends to see if they could gauge their thoughts, and the anticipation Kyle was experiencing was asphyxiating. Would it be too naive to assume they were on the verge of epiphany?

"Shut up, Kyle, you sound like your mom!" Cartman teased.

The contemplative silence was broken by laughter, sniggers that pulled the seams apart, multiplying by the second. Kyle blinked, his nose burned, his mind, and lungs, and face fucking burned with anger, and disappointment, and humiliation. Just to add to the awfulness, this straight-out-of-a-bad-dream experience, he felt his eyes start to burn. But there was no way in hell he was going to cry.

"Fuck this..." he muttered, storming out from behind the podium and was actually surprised his pants hadn't disappeared.

Nobody tried to stop him, and he was glad. He stormed down the corridor, avoiding class because he had been given the period to participate in this stupid debate anyway, and he couldn't even face the eyes of those who were oblivious to what just happened. He kept his eyes down, his teeth gritted, and he only realised he was outside when the needling, numbing cold pinched his face and snowflakes were falling in front of him.

The football field was covered in icing sugar snow, the grass crunching underfoot as he contemplated doing a Forrest Gump and running coast to coast to release his anger, or abandon it, or work through it, or whatever the hell Forrest achieved from running across the country for three years straight. He slowed, realising that wasn't an option and brought his hands to his face as he came to a complete stop. He hunched like he was about to vomit, but instead screamed. And just like vomiting, he felt mildly better afterwards, but still nauseous, still thoroughly pissed off.

There were footstep behind him, somebody jogging towards him and panting.

"Hey..."

The word clutched Kyle's gut, and he straightened up. His spine rigid, he turned around and saw Cartman, face pinked, and chest heaving, and eyes wide. He almost looked... nervous. Kyle scowled.

"Stay the fuck away from me..."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and continued to stomp down the football field. Cartman followed him without hesitation.

"Kyle, I-"

"No!" Kyle yelled. He actually snarled when he looked over his shoulder, seething. "I mean it, Cartman, stay away from me!"

Cartman sighed, threw his hands up in the air.

"Fine..."

They stood, at some strange stand-off distance from each other. Kyle still had his back to Cartman, hackles raised, still looking over his shoulder curiously. Cartman looked empty-handed, totally out of options. He watched him move over to the bleachers, and took a seat despite their icy, unwelcoming appearance.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Having a smoke," Cartman replied, like him smoking was common knowledge. He pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the inside of his jacket.

Kyle's shoulders dropped in surprise.

"I didn't know you smoked..."

Cartman shrugged, cigarette dangling from his lips.

" I don't do it all the time..." he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, like a half-assed ventriloquist.

The lighter flickered, and the cigarette stood to attention as he brought the flame to the tip. He took a drag, staring into nowhere and Kyle watched his shoulders fall, and the sigh escape his lips in a cloud of smoke, and actually felt envious. What did he even have to fucking smoke about? What stress relief did he need right now?

"Give me one," he demanded, approaching Cartman with his palm open.

He smirked, a crease in his brow.

"Huh?" He laughed. "Now I know _you_ don't smoke..."

"I think you owe me one for what you did back there. I'm never gonna win this thing now."

Cartman raked his gaze over Kyle warily, before handing him his lighter and offering him a cigarette.

"Here..."

Kyle sat down next to him, and snatched the items from him, realising he had little clue what to do. Of course, it was pretty self-explanatory, and it wasn't as if he hadn't smoked before but that memory was obscured by the elementary school burning down. He knew he couldn't avoid a lot of awkward fiddling with the lighter, and some initial coughing, and the last thing he needed right now was Cartman making fun of his lack of finesse.

Surprisingly, Cartman didn't say a word when it took him a couple of times to light the cigarette. He wanted the biggest sigh, for a large amount of his tension, and rage to be expelled with the first drag he took. He inhaled as deeply as he could, his cheeks hollowing and his eyes bulging.

"Hey! It's not a joint-"

Kyle didn't acknowledge him, partly due to the fact he couldn't breathe. He tried not to cough or wheeze, but when the smoke unfurled from his nose and his mouth like a very graceless dragon, it was impossible not to sputter, and retch, and for tears to prick his eyes. Once he started coughing it was hard to stop, and even harder to catch his breath. Now he really felt like he was going to vomit, and wouldn't stop until his lungs splattered onto the frozen grass.

"Jesus..." Cartman muttered, half-exasperated, half-concerned.

He made an undignified heaving nose when Cartman started hitting his back, but those sturdy thumps did manage to regulate his breathing.

"Better?"

Kyle nodded, so glad to be able to breathe again that it took him a while to register that Cartman's hand was still at his back, rubbing gentle, contemplative circles. He looked at him, frowning, and Cartman quickly snatched his hand away. His mouth was drawn tight and he had averted his gaze. Kyle followed suit, thinking how he didn't ask Cartman to stop, exactly.

"For what it's worth, I honestly think you didn't do so bad in there..."

Kyle looked at him again, eyebrows raised. Cartman was looking at him like he didn't get what the issue was.

"Is that a joke?"

"No, it's me trying to be nice-"

"I don't need your pity, Cartman," Kyle cut in. He decided he had adequately recovered enough from his coughing fit to take another drag, and it did feel good. "And by the way, being nice doesn't mean lying through your teeth. Spare me, okay? I know that was a fucking disaster."

"I'm not lying! You know, if you stopped wallowing in self-pity for a second you'd realise that what you were saying was actually getting through to people. I bet you could see it too. Why do you think I interrupted you?"

Kyle didn't respond, he just stared at Cartman hard enough to see if he could figure out the answer.

"Do you really want to win this?" he asked.

Cartman shrugged.

"I don't care... it's just gonna be some boring, bureaucratic crap."

"You _could_ win this though." Kyle pointed it out like it hadn't even occurred to him.

"I know..."

"Why do you think I'm doing so bad in the polls?"

Kyle had no idea why he kept asking Cartman questions like he was some twisted Magic 8-Ball, but he felt like he needed to ask them.

Cartman shifted, and looked Kyle straight in the eyes.

"Do you want my honest opinion?"

Kyle nodded.

"Yes."

"You might not like it."

"Hurting my feelings has never bothered you before..."

"Okay... first off, you went about your campaign all wrong. People aren't gonna remember the kid who pulled up a chair next to them in biology and made polite conversation. Secondly, you keep talking about things that people don't wanna hear, and not just because it's boring but because it makes them uncomfortable..." he shrugged. "That's all I've got. Otherwise, I have no fucking clue why you're not doing so well. Maybe because people are dipshits?"

Kyle chuckled, sardonic, and rolled his eyes.

"Right..."

"No, they really are fucking morons, Kyle," Cartman pressed, like this was vital information Kyle had to get through his head. "Their priorities are fucked and that's what makes them so damn easy to win over. If they knew what was good for them at all they'd realise you're the best chance they've got, because you're annoyingly smart, you're capable of being compassionate, and you'd actually have the balls to stand up to the bureaucratic bullshit, and care enough to keep on going. But there, those are your reasons, they're not very good ones and nothing you should take personally."

"Oh..." Kyle whispered, swallowing hard because suddenly his mouth was very dry. "Um, thanks..."

"Don't mention it..." Cartman murmured, sounding more like a plea. He threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his sneaker.

Kyle stood up, swiftly enough to draw Cartman's attention to him. His stare made Kyle feel rather awkward, and he rubbed his damp palms on his jeans.

"Uhh... " he threw his cigarette on the ground too, and willed his articulacy to return. "I'm gonna go back in..."

Cartman nodded, and Kyle noticed his jaw was clenched.

"Okay..."

"Aren't you?" he asked, because parting from Cartman, with his words still ringing in his ears, seemed difficult all of a sudden.

"Huh?" He shook his head, averted his gaze again. "Nah, I don't think I'm running anymore."

Kyle frowned. Those echoing words were spinning now too, disorientating, and unnerving, and he wondered when the hell he lost his footing on their dynamic.

"What?"

"I'm not running anymore..." Cartman stated, simple.

"When did you decide this?"

"About two minutes ago."

Since Cartman seemed determined not to look at him, Kyle didn't feel embarrassed when a smile started tugging at his lips. He still ducked his head though, smile scrunching up to contain his laughter. Once he'd collected himself, he lifted his head.

"You pulling out of this race isn't going to make me win-"

"Duh." Cartman lifted his head, offering Kyle his own small, wry smile. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm just... bored of it now."

Kyle nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets again.

"Sure, Cartman..."

He walked away, left to ponder what this all meant. Was Cartman being nice to him now? Did that mean he had to up the mean stakes in return? Or was this the mould for something new?

"Hey!" Cartman called after him. "It isn't because of you!"

Kyle grinned.

"I know!"

He didn't care if he won the election now, because at least he had succeeded in bringing out the compassion and generosity of one unlikely person.


End file.
